Black Adder
by Naru934chan
Summary: On a trip to a woodland park one day, Harry comes across England's only venomous snake - a black Adder. This mischievous snake changes Harry's depressing view on life, developing his personality as an inherent prankster. Together they will turn Hogwarts on its head, encountering challenge after challenge, as their misadventures continuously drive them into trouble.
1. A Change of Plans

**A Change of Plans**

Harry groggily blinked open his eyes, hoping it was finally a reasonable enough time to start the day. Not that he could get up until his cupboard was unlocked _anyway,_ but he could at least make good use of the time by playing with the small, plastic army men – pilfered from Dudley's old toy box. His cousin hadn't played with them since he'd received the present 2 years ago, for his fourth birthday.

However, Harry knew that if he were caught with the soldiers, there would be hell to pay.

Listening closely for any movement upstairs, he picked up the general and aimed his gun towards the enemy troops; wiggling the base forward to advance the army.

After about an hour – within which the enemy was completely obliterated by 'Harry's army' – thuds came from above, dislodging mites of dust from his staggered ceiling. He scrunched up his eyes to prevent anything from falling in them and moved to tuck his toys back under his flimsy mattress.

Light footsteps trotted down the stairs and he knew that he would be called upon soon to start the cleaning. His small, six year old body wasn't good for much – as his aunt continuously reminded him – but he was useful for cleaning all the small nooks and crannies she would hurt her knees and back trying to reach. He didn't like being so small, but he also didn't want to grow taller, for as soon as he could reach the stove she would have him making all of their meals; he just knew it.

He held his breath as the footsteps reached the floor and made their way around to his cupboard. Soon there would be a sharp rapping on his door, and a shrill voice telling him to 'Get up and start your chores!'

The steps reached his door… and then carried on to the kitchen, the sizzling of sausages starting up but a few minutes later. He huffed out a surprised sigh, his bright green eyes never straying from the still-locked latch. This wasn't the first time he had been left in all day, but he was usually given some warning first. If he was being punished, the Dursely's usually let him know _exactly_ what he had done wrong. Aunt Petunia wanted only perfection in her life, and how could he be perfect if he couldn't correct his wayward behaviour?

He continued to listen as plates clacked down onto the table, and a loud ' **Bang'** came from the landing above, as though his 'well rounded' ( _very_ well rounded) uncle had just fallen from the bed. Harry had no idea whether or not he actually _did_ fall off, but the sound could be heard at roughly the same time every morning.

Just then the phone rang, a loud wailing that echoed all through the house. There were two phones connected to the same line, one in his uncle's bedroom and one in the lounge. The sound cut off and Harry could hear Vernon's gruff voice start up, muffled by the carpet and flooring between him and the first floor.

At the same time, his cousin began to bawl his eyes out; no doubt upset about the early wake up call. He cried every time he was awoken by outside influences (in other words, every school day), and Harry longed for the day he would no longer have to listen to Dudley's high pitched wailing in the mornings. He had read somewhere that voice pitches lowered as one grew; perhaps that would help.

Harry laid back down and closed his eyes, imagining himself as a leader of his own army until the house quieted down once more and his burgeoning headache receded. He was just considering bringing out his toys again – to enact the story he had come up with – when a loud "HE WHAT!?" Came from the kitchen.

He glanced up nervously, hoping that he wasn't the current topic of conversation, but he couldn't discern enough of the following words to make out the subject matter. He decided to leave the playing till the evening; no point in risking his fun just to alleviate a spot of boredom.

Eventually the kitchen was vacated and his aunt – finally – came to unlock his door.

"Get up! And clean up the kitchen. We don't have much time, so put the dishes in the machine."

"Yes aunty."

He was always as polite as possible to his relatives, because there was less chance of getting told off that way. If they were annoyed, then his life was made miserable. So by doing his best to keep them happy – however hard that might be – he could be content in the absence of their temper.

Petunia followed him into the kitchen and waited until he was carefully balancing the plates on his arm before she spoke.

"We're going to Vinewood Park today."

Ah, that explained the change in routine.

"Ms Figg has broken her leg," displeasure oozed from her voice and her face scrunched up in annoyance, "so you'll be coming with us."

He almost dropped the plates in surprise. He slowly unloaded them into the dishwasher as he thought. Parks were supposed to be fun, but parks with Dudley meant possible danger. It was good Dudley's friends weren't –

The doorbell rang cheerfully as he was straightening up and Petunia's countenance immediately changed.

"Oh!" she exclaimed, clapping her hands together, "That will be Piers now."

He almost groaned; _almost._ Piers was Dudley's best friend at school, and together they made the most feared pair in their year. At first Harry had liked school; he enjoyed any chance to learn and he had thought he could gain a friend or two in his class. He was wrong.

Dudley had quickly cut off any positive interactions between Harry and his peers by bullying him in the playground and teasing him in class. The rest of the kids quickly caught on, and he soon became the class outcast; but he didn't mind too much. He'd never known any different, and he kept himself busy in the school library doing his best to learn everything he could, because it was something he could _control._ Books were fun, and it was nice knowing that he was above his classmates in their school subjects.

He swept the floor as quickly as possible – though the large broom was still rather awkward for him to use – and then headed back to his cupboard to tug on his scuffed shoes. Dudley came jumping down the stairs to meet his friend. Unlike Harry, he was a large child and was constantly growing, relative to the amount of food he shoved down his throat every day. Piers was closer to Harry's build, small and slim and perfect for chasing Harry down when he tried to run away. They never did anything major to him, and _never_ within sight of a teacher. They only pushed him around a bit, and regurgitated the words of aunt Petunia and uncle Vernon to upset him – not that it worked, he didn't care about what they said; especially when they couldn't come up with their own insults.

While Petunia ushered the boys into the car, uncle Vernon stomped over to Harry, growling down at him in annoyance. Uncle Vernon was scary. He was gigantic and red and somewhere within a range of annoyed to downright _angry_ whenever he talked to Harry; he was the only person Harry was truly scared of. Right now – thankfully – he only seemed rather irritated, and did not look as though he would strangle Harry at any given moment.

"Be warned boy," He did his best not to cower under uncle Vernon's unrestricted glare. "I will not tolerate any strange business from you!"

He said this often, but Harry still wasn't sure what he could do that would be classed as 'strange'. He knew they didn't like him sounding smarter than Dudley, so he tried his best not to answer anything other than a direct question or show up his cousin too badly in class. There _had_ been a bit of an odd moment last year when Piers had snapped his favourite pencil in half; he had cried himself to sleep about it that night, and had awoken to find it as good as new in the morning. He'd kept it to himself, not wanting the pencil to be broken again. He now only used it for drawing or writing in his cupboard.

Vernon allowed him to get into the remaining back seat, sitting himself behind the driver's wheel and starting up their Vauxhall with a cheery whistle. Harry sat back and tried to enjoy the hour long ride, doing his best to keep his temper when Dudley got bored and started poking him. This lasted for a few minutes before Petunia brought out a couple of bags of sweets for Piers and his cousin to share.

They took the fifth exit from the motor way – Harry had amused himself with counting the openings, for lack of anything better to do – and drove up a tree lined hill. The country side seemed to expand as they travelled and the trees grew and grew in number until they entered a fully-fledged forest.

Harry looked out of his window, feeling happy for the first time in a while and imagining himself running freely through the wood, nothing but pines and woodland creatures to keep him company.

They pulled into the designated car park, which by now was half full, and piled out of the car. Harry made sure to stay as far away from his cousin as possible as they walked into the children's zone. There was a large play park for the kids and various woodland trails for adventurous adults. Maps were being sold alongside a small ice cream shack, and Dudley headed straight for the food.

"Mummy, buy me ice-cream!"

"Of course Diddykins, do you want any sauces? And you Piers, would you like one too?"

Piers nodded enthusiastically and the two boys were herded up to the seller. Harry trailed behind, staying far enough out of the way so as not to draw any attention from the ice-cream man, he didn't like the stuff anyway. Set up with their large 99's, they both dove into the park, quickly heading for the slide so they could play and eat at the same time.

Harry knew that he was now free, as long as he got back before they left he could go anywhere he wanted. He watched the other children play for a moment longer, wondering how much fun it would be if he had friends, before turning around and heading off up the first trail he came across. It was time to do some exploring.

* * *

 **Author's notes:**

 **This is my first harry Potter Fanfiction, so please enjoy! This story was a request from mellra, so credit goes to them for the idea! Please tell me your thoughts, I realise that this chapter doesn't have much in it, but every story needs to start somewhere.**


	2. New Friends, New Fun

**New friends, new fun.**

Harry kept up a sprightly pace as he wondered beneath the trees, stopping every now and then to look at a new species of plant, or to take in the peaceful view around him. Some of the bushes had very brightly coloured flowers blooming from them, but others were just a normal dull green; why was that? He picked a pretty pink flower off of one bush, and a yellowish leaf from another. Did they do different things? If he mashed them together, could he create something new? He stuffed them both into a pocket, endeavouring to find out when he got home.

Without a watch, he was unsure how much time he had before the Dursely's would think about leaving. He was keeping an eye on the sun – like the people in Dudley's films sometimes did – but he didn't really know what he was looking for. Perhaps he should start heading back…

He shrugged, and shoved the worry from his mind. So what if they left without him? He could stay here, where it was nicer… and quieter. Maybe he could make food appear out of thin air! He'd done strange things before, though Uncle Vernon always told him off for it afterwards; like the time when he had been locked in his cupboard for three days, and the door would always open whenever he got really thirsty.

He sighed and kicked the ground sulkily. No, he couldn't let them leave him behind; he doubted he would be able to survive for long on his own. Not to mention, the park guards would probably find him eventually. Well, at least he'd gotten a nice walk out of the trip, it was probably a good idea to head back and keep an eye on them; so he would be ready when they wanted to leave.

As he wondered back up the path he hit a crossroad, three paths forked off in three different directions; it didn't take him long to realise he had no clue which path was his. His eyes flickered between each one before settling on the track in the middle. He didn't remember the path bending around much, so he must have been walking in a relatively straight line. Middle it was then!

* * *

It took him a little while to realise he must have taken the wrong path, surely it shouldn't have been taking him so long to reach the main park? _'Maybe it was the left one… If I cut through the trees I could make it back faster!'_

Turning sharply to his left, he began running through the woods; not wanting the Dursley's to get bored and leave without him. He ran for a few minutes, stopping when he realised he now couldn't see either path. He was completely surrounded by solid wood in every direction, and he no longer knew which way was _back_.

His breath came in short gasps as he started to panic. _'WhatdoIdoWhatdoIdoWhatdoIdo…'_

A wood pigeon suddenly took off from a branch above him and he flinched back involuntarily, stumbling over a large root and hitting the ground with a soft " _oomph"._

It was fine, _he_ was fine. He _wouldn't_ cry. He had cried once before when he had gotten lost in a supermarket, and Aunt Petunia had scolded him for being so stupid - after picking him up from the customer service desk. He wasn't stupid, so he _wouldn't_ cry. He ignored the water prickling in the corner of his eyes as he shakily stood back up, falling back again at a faint rustling noise coming from the underbrush in front of him.

He stared at it silently for a moment. He knew he hadn't imagined it, the bush had _moved,_ he'd seen it! Perhaps it was another bird? The bush shifted again, and he watched on – curiously this time – as something long and black slithered out from its base.

' _A snake?'_

He _loved_ snakes! A man had let him hold one once on a trip to the zoo, and the reptile had cuddled around his neck and told him how nice and warm he was. The snake had been taken off shortly after that, but it was nice to have been told he was good for _something._

" _Hello!_ " He chirped happily, glad to not be alone in the big forest.

The snake froze as it caught sight of him, eyeing him up and down before worming its way over the hard ground; hissing lightly at his feet. He giggled.

" _You speak?"_

Harry frowned in confusion. " _Of course I do, doesn't everybody?"_

" _I have yet to meet another legged who can."_

His frown deepened as he thought this over. " _Have you met any people before?"_

The snake nodded his – for the voice seemed vaguely masculine – head in assent. " _I like to scare ones like you when they intrude upon my home. The bigger ones make funny sounds."_

Harry laughed at that, thinking about how the girls in his class squealed when they saw a worm or a slug. The snake was definitely much prettier than those bugs however, so perhaps that wasn't what he meant. Thinking about class caused him to remember his current predicament, and he chewed his lip as he wondered how he was going to get back.

" _I don't suppose you know the way out of here do you? I'm supposed to be going back home soon, but I got lost in here."_

" _Go home? You should stay with me and play…"_

Harry considered the offer. It was very tempting, but he didn't want to be left behind by the Dursely's. If he didn't go now then he would never get home!

" _I have to get home, or my relatives will leave without me and I'll never get back."_

He looked down at the ground, sadly tracing random patterns into the dirt. He'd never been able to talk to someone without Dudley immediately bullying them off of him, he didn't want to lose his first chance at a friend…

" _Hey! Why don't you come home with me? You can live in the garden and freak aunt petunia out when she does the washing!"_

He thought it sounded like a _great_ idea. Maybe the snake would help him scare Dudley whenever the boy was mean to him – which was all the time.

" _Ssssss, but I will be far from my sleeping ground."_

" _You can sleep at mine! If you get cold I can sneak you into room or something… but we'll be able to play lots and lots then! And we can scare Dudley and his friends when they come by."_

" _Hmmm, is there food where you live?"_

Harry paused, he hadn't thought about that. Aunt Petunia wouldn't let him take food out of the cupboards but…

" _Don't you eat mice and stuff? I see them in the garden occasionally, Aunt Petunia doesn't like them very much."_

" _Mice… Voles… young sky fliers… they make for very tasty mealsss. As long as they are around I will stay with you, and we can 'freak out your Aunt' among others. This way to the other legged…"_

The Adder hissed wordlessly and began to slither off between the trees, Harry grinning and running to keep up with his pointed, black tail.

* * *

They stopped just before they left the safety of the tree line, Harry immediately spotting Dudley standing at the top of the climbing frame with Piers. Typically, there were no other children anywhere near the apparatus, Dudley having asserted himself at the head of the playground once again.

He pointed this out to the snake who became rather confused with the observation.

" _But why would he push others away? Basking on your own is not conducive to maintaining body heat."_

" _Maintain body heat? That's what coats are for isn't it?"_

" _What is a coat?"_

" _They're pieces of clothing you put on to keep yourself warm. I've seen small dogs in them occasionally…"_

Harry quickly realised that small dogs were the _only_ animals he'd ever seen wearing coats, and so hurridly gave the subject up.

" _Don't worry, it doesn't matter."_

" _Ssss… well then, what should we do to him?"_

" _Do to him? We can't, I'll get in trouble if anything happens to him!"_ Harry thought of the many instances where he'd been punished for unexplainable things happening to his cousin, simply because he had been near at the time.

" _Not if they can't prove it. You ssstay and watch; I like it when they squeal."_

The adder was off before Harry could form a decent argument, and he watched pensively as the smooth, black body disappeared into long grass. He hid behind a tree to make sure his relatives couldn't see him, poking his head around to keep an eye on the proceedings.

He stared through round glasses at Dudley and Piers jumping on the climbing frame. After a few minutes, Dudley screamed, jumping back to the nearest wall and using it as leverage to kick his feet in the air. As he was a rather overweight child his arms couldn't hold up much of his bulk, making it look as though he was performing a very scared version of the can-can atop the tower. Piers barely spared Dudley a glance as he turned and jumped onto the fire man's pole; sliding down with terror in his eyes.

Dudley climbed over the lip of the frame onto the top of the monkey bars. He scrambled to traverse the large holes in between each bar, almost falling off in his rush to _get away_. When he was about a quarter of the way across, he slipped through one of the gaps, just about managing to wrap his chubby arms around the metal. Shimmying across the bars had caused his trousers to slip down his fat bottom, and all the occupants of the park were treated to a full view of his bare lower half as he screamed for help from his mummy.

* * *

Harry was doubled over on the pine strewn floor, trying to hold his stomach together as tears streamed down from his bright green eyes. He was laughing so hard that his cheeks were starting to hurt, and he was sure he'd have no voice by the next day.

He heard a soft noise come up from behind him, but couldn't gather himself enough to turn around.

" _SSSssss… he makes such delicious noises. He shall be much fun in the future."_

Managing to bring himself back under control, Harry realised this was the first time he could ever remember truly laughing. He felt so light, so free now that he had, and even though the laughter had bubbled down to only a few giggles he still felt unexplainably giddy.

" _That was great! I've never seen him so scared, what did you do?"_

" _It didn't take much. I was barely able to make myself known before they started jumping about like frightened mice."_

Harry thought a mouse probably wasn't the best description for Dudley, a pig would have been a better likeness ' _but then'_ he supposed ' _pigs don't jump'._

Coming back to the present, he realised that Petunia had finally rescued Dudley from the climbing frame and was now engaged in a one sided argument against the park manager.

' _I should probably wait until she's calmed down before going back'_ he mused. ' _Speaking of...'_

" _When they start to head back, you just need to follow me back to the car and coil up under the seat so they can't see you. Make sure you stay hidden until we get there. There are some bushes by the drive Uncle Vernon parks in, so you should be able to slide into those pretty quickly."_

" _Sss, alright; will I live with you?"_

" _Well, you'll be able to find mice and things in the garden and forest, and we have as shed if you need somewhere warmer… and I'll sneak you into my room when I can! You can sleep with me at night. Uncle sometimes shuts me in there if I'm bad, so you won't be able to stay with me then… but I'll try not to be bad!"_

The snake chuckled at his outburst, making Harry feel as though he'd said something wrong.

" _We'll be more than bad."_ The mischievous tone was enough to make Harry grin slightly. " _We'll be a menace."_

* * *

 **AU:** Finally the second instalment! I hope you all enjoy, and thank you very much to Mellra for pushing me all the way. The next chapter will be jumping straight ahead into the Hogwarts fun, mostly because I don't find Harry's early years that easy to write.


	3. Infestation

**Infestation**

In the second bedroom on the first floor, a young, black haired boy blinked open bright green eyes; reddened with tiredness. The last night had been a late one – ending with him sneaking back in up the gutter and through his open window – yet, as was usually the case, his consciousness had returned to him at the same unholy hour as it did every other morning! The rather battered looking clock by his bed read 5:23, and it was at times like this that he wished mornings didn't exist. The world would be a much happier place if night rolled straight into the afternoon. Lunch was, after all, his favourite meal of the day.

With a groan he rolled over away from the dastardly timepiece and imagined how happy he would be if he were alike to his overweight, lazy ass cousin – able to fall asleep at the drop of a hat and stay that way (until a bucket of ice cold water was thrown over his head).

Sadly, once he was up he was up, and lying there trying to pretend otherwise wasn't going to get him anywhere fast. After all, today was the day the results of his hard labour would (hopefully) pay off!

He took a deep breath and slowly uncurled from the foetal position he had balled himself into. The covers had been thrown off at some point during the night, when it had become too hot to even think about his – very holey – duvet, so he had no need to go through the effort of shucking them off as he rose to use the bathroom. Once his bladder was once again comfortable, he made his way down to the kitchen for breakfast.

A horrible meal in his opinion, he'd once gone through a stage of refusing to eat it until Aunt Petunia took away his lunch as punishment. His precious lunch! It had taken a highly unbreakable promise (or exchange, as he preferred to think of it) where she would give him lunch providing he ate a good breakfast to get him back on to a healthy routine.

The other inhabitants of the house didn't understand his aversion to a perfectly good meal. Especially…

' _Harry.'_

Speak of the devil.

' _You realise that if I hadn't been the first one up you would have been in big trouble, right?'_

He must have woken the terror up. Monty had been snoring away when the toilet had demanded his presence. Had his Aunt woken first, she would have thrown a fit at the sight of the ebony snake. The last time Monty had popped up at a family dinner – to which Harry had _not_ been invited to – pest control had spent several hours combing the entirety of the house at Aunt Petunia's insistence; only to leave completely empty handed.

' _Ssss, but you were. Food?'_

' _Get your own you lazy freeloader, I'm sure there's plenty of good meals for you out by the park. If 'Tuny notices the bacon missing again I won't have a backside left to protect!'_

It was agreed by just about everyone – apart from himself, of course – that Harry was a hopeless cook. Most of his meal came out either irreparably overcooked, or on fire; to the point where he wasn't allowed within ten feet of the stove. (This quickly came about when Harry realised he would be expected to cook breakfast for the Dursley's, as he was an early riser). His Aunt cooked everything, including dinner for him. All he had to do was make his own breakfast (shudder) and arrange the most delicious sandwiches and scones and fruit salads for his eagerly awaited luncheons.

But although he had wheedled his way out of cooking easily enough, he still had a fair few chores to complete around the house and garden. Weeding had been a no go after he had (accidently) pulled up all of 'Tuny's favourite flowers, though the bed of Nasturtiums had been entirely Monty's fault. Likewise, his trial of washing the car had resulted in a mass of water somehow ending up in the engine and the exhaust pipe.

He was sorely punished for both feats, even though they were both clearly complete _accidents_ obviously resulting from a lack of experience.

However, his love of sandwiches had given him uncanny skill with a knife and he was a master painter. His hedge cutting skills were also top notch, although his creations were not always appreciated. Despite her complaints, he was pretty sure his aunt still enjoyed all of the attention her front garden garnered from passers-by.

His chores kept him busy when he was bored, which was fairly often over the summer holidays. Currently though, he was ignoring them in favour of some well-earned relaxation. He had spent the past year and a bit studying hard for a place in Whitacre Academy – a private all-boys school located in Windsor. He knew his aunt and uncle wouldn't pay a dime for him to get in, so he was aiming for a full scholarship.

The teachers at Harry's primary school had realised early on that Harry was a very bright child. He didn't seem to get on with many others in his class, resulting in most of his free time being spent in the small school library. After devouring the limited supply of books the school held, he approached the kindly librarian searching for new reading material. The librarian – Mrs King – had been watching the young Potter for a long time now, long enough to realise that he loved her precious texts and the extensive knowledge a primary school library could only hint at. She had a word with his teachers and together they worked to feed Harry's ever growing appetite with as much information as they could get their hands on. The Dursely's had not been very receptive to their nephews apparent genius, so they were ignored in favour of Harry's increasing educational needs.

The result was that Harry now aimed as high as possible. He loved knowledge, and understood the power that he could gain from it. He had spent his last school term taking one exam after another in the hopes of one day entering the prestigious private school - his application for a full scholarship allowing him to avoid the registration fee.

He would be unable to relax today though – he knew. For today was the day! The day his results from the entrance exams would arrive. He was so excited he could barely sit still, needing some activity to keep him going until the post man appeared. It seemed the Dursley's were in luck, for Harry was finally ready to trim some overgrown hedges.

Hoisting Monty up over his shoulders on the way past (' _hey!'_ ) he practically skipped outside to the garden shed, pulling out his giant scissors and jogging around to the front garden. He'd allowed the hedges to grow out so that they could be cut into a new shape – whilst neat, the spiral bushes now bored him to no end – and he now eyed them critically; wondering how to mould them this time. It took him only a few seconds to decide on a Chinese style dragon for the long hedge at the front, and he immediately jumped to work.

Harry was about half way through when the post arrived. Aunt Pentunia was already up and about, he'd felt her eyes on him more than a few times as he worked, and she opened the door at about the same time he glomped the post-man.

"Hey Steve! Is it Steve? Have you got anything for me? Please tell me you have!"

Harry was often working in the garden when Steve rolled up, so the two were well acquainted.

"Hmm… let me see. Ah yes, here you go kiddo." Steve gave him a wink as he relinquished the very formal looking letter into Harry's trembling hands. "That'll be the results from them tests you were taking, right?"

Harry could only nod dumbly as he stared down at the envelope between his fingers. He didn't want to open it…but he desperately wanted to know his results. But what if he hadn't gotten in? He barely noticed his aunt relieve the man of their remaining letters, and he was far too gone to notice her turn rigid in shock as she stared down at the days' mail. He only realised everyone had left when Monty returned to laying across his feet, hissing up at him questioningly.

" _Isn't this what you were waiting for? Aren't you going to read it?"_

Harry continued staring pensively at his future, mouth opening and closing several times as he tried to form a response within his scattered brain.

" _But… what if I failed?"_

" _What if you passed? You'll never find out either way eyeing it like a mouse faced with my terrible might!"_

Harry couldn't even laugh at Monty's attempt at humour, but at least he listened to the logic. Pass or fail, there was only one way to find out. His hands shook as he turned the letter over, and he closed his eyes as he slid a finger under the opening; breaking the weak glue sealing it together and pulling out the contents.

He unfolded the crisp paper and took a deep breath, enjoying the action so much that he took several more, before finally drawing back his lids and staring intently down at the black words lining the page.

 **Dear Mr H. Potter**

 **We are pleased to inform you that your application into Whitacre Academy has been successful. Please send your letter of acceptance to the return address detailed below by August 14th, instructions regarding school conduct and attendance will follow.**

 **Congratulations on your achievement, we look forward to hearing from you soon.**

 **Whitacre Academy Board of Governors**

Harry didn't look any further, he'd read everything he needed to know. With tears in his eyes he fell to the ground laughing, Monty writhing happily across his belly until the front door re-opened; at which point he slithered back into the half-cut hedge.

Harry bit back his sense of euphoria, glancing up at his Aunt as she stood pensively in the door way. Something seemed slightly off about her, but he wasn't in the mood to find out what the problem was. Knowing her, she was rankled by the fact that he had accomplished something that Dudley would never come close to achieving! Not that Dudley was much of an achiever anyway…

"You got in then?"

He stood up to face her – noticing absently that the postman had moved on by now – and straightened his face.

"Yes. I just need to send them my letter of acceptance and then…" He shrugged, having a hard time trying to hold back the grin he could feel working its way onto his lips, although he sobered up fast when he realised there was still one more thing he needed.

"Actually Aunt Petunia" – best keep it polite – "They're having an open day next week and I would quite like to look around – to see where I would be studying and the sorts of things I can take into the dorms. I've got money for the train" (years of gardening for the neighbours had done wonders for his pocket money) "But I was hoping I could get a lift to the station, as I'll have to leave pretty early…"

He rocked back on his heels, begging her with his eyes to agree just this once. To finally do something nice for him because he _really_ wanted to see what he was getting himself into.

She pursed her lips tightly in annoyance – she still hated him asking questions of her. "I'll have to talk to Vernon, as he would be driving." She was silent for a moment before dismissing him with – "I don't need you around the house today, don't go any further than the park."

Harry stared in disbelief as she turned sharply and re-entered the house. A free day? For him? What on earth was going on? Perhaps – as odd as it sounded – she was genuinely proud of his achievement. Or perhaps – as was more likely the case – she was keeping him out of the way for when Dudley found out Harry would be going to a better school than him.

Ohhh sweet revenge! He could hardly wait.

* * *

The open day had left Harry buzzing. He was far too excited to notice the odd goings on around him. Every day he completed the chores he was given, using his spare time to play with Monty in the park, study, or look up his future school at the local library. Had he paid more attention, he would have noticed the behaviour changes around the house – how neither he nor Dudley were asked to get the post anymore; How Aunt Petunia kept his over large cousin from insulting him or chasing him around; how his uncle spent most mornings bent over a small fire in mid-July.

The only odd thing he noticed were the owls. There were so many of them, all different types, sizes shapes and colours, and all of them were visible during the day when Harry could have sworn they were nocturnal (he'd even gone through the trouble to double check this fact during a library trip, just to make sure). Even so, it was unlikely he would have paid any attention to the increase in birds at all if it hadn't been for Monty – wary, due to his small stature, of all the predators flying around – who was apparently convinced they were all eyeing him up like their next (very tasty) meal.

Therefore it was rather surprising for him to wake up one day – late for once, he'd picked up a new library book on biomechanics and had been unable to put it back down – to complete and utter chaos. The whole house was rumbling, almost trembling with the sheer volume of noise accompanying what should have been a quiet, Sunday morning breakfast. It almost sounded as though Uncle Vernon was stampeding around the house, yelling himself horse (with 'Tuny pitching in every now and again).

"BOY!"

Harry winced. He hadn't been addressed in such a demeaning fashion for many years – not since he'd refused to answer to anything other than his true name. However, the volume and tone used made it impossible for him not to fall back on old habits, jumping out of bed and racing down the stairs; ignoring his current state of dress in favour of reporting immediately to his livid Uncle.

The scene he arrived to was so far from what he was expecting he honestly couldn't help but burst into a fit of laughter. Tears sprung to his eyes as he watched his three relatives cowering from a cascade of letters pouring from every orifice. The chimney, the letter box, all of the windows… Where was a camera when you needed one?

"Everyone pack a bag and get back down here now! We are going away, far away!"

With a glowing purple face and bulging eyes, Harry was loath to ignore his uncle at that moment. For the first time in many years, he did exactly what he was told without complaining, stopping, or deliberately sabotaging the proceedings, and he did it _fast._ As soon as he returned to the hall, uncle Vernon was shoving him out of the door and into the car; man handling a reluctant Dudley in after. When they were all comfortably seated, he shoved the car into reverse and swung out of the drive way, almost wrenching the gear stick out of its socket in his hurry to get away.

As the neighbourhood fell away, Harry allowed himself a moment to wonder where they were going and why; sending a mental apology out to Monty for shoving the poor snake head first into his back pack as he curiously fingered the mysterious letter he had shoved into his pocket.

* * *

Vernon stopped the car late in the evening before a very miserable looking water front, probably nothing more than a small fishing port. Vernon left them in the vehicle without a word, heading off into the burgeoning storm for whatever crazy purpose his broken mind had managed to think up. Harry was pretty sure the man had gone mad. It can't have been easy, being stalked by owls and infested by mail – he wondered if post could now become a recognised pest?

None of them spoke for as long as it took Uncle Vernon to finish his business, returning to the car after a good half hour and insisting they join him in the depressing downpour. Harry hugged his bag as he stepped outside, doing his best to protect Monty from the elements.

They were ushered swiftly into a very fragile looking row boat, Vernon muttering all the while:

"They'll never find us here… oh no… let's see them fly through _this…"_

Closing his eyes and discreetly stuffing the letter into his pack and away from the rain, Harry allowed himself a small sob of despair for the downward spiral his life had suddenly taken. Stupid owls…

* * *

It was approaching half eleven at night when Harry was finally able to release Monty from his confines. It had taken a while, but the grunting snores coming from the one bedroom and the main sofa showed that his relatives were soundly asleep.

" _Ssss, they always have to be so inconvenient! I had something special planned for tomorrow as well."_

" _Eh? How come? What's different about tomorrow?"_

He squirmed uneasily as Monty glared angrily into his eyes.

" _Your birthday idiot! I thought you were supposed to be clever, how could you forget something that comes every year? Sssstupid human."_

" _Hey! You didn't even know what a birthday was!"_ He crossed his arms and raised an eyebrow pointedly at the snake.

" _That'ssss because we snakes don't have such pointless things."_

" _That doesn't stop you from enjoying one though does it?"_ ' _Success!'_ he thought, as Monty glanced down in embarrassment. Although he had found the idea of celebrating his date of birth strange at first, the reptile had quickly warmed to the idea, finding it a perfect reason to hold a bi-annual prank war (one on each of their birthdays). The score was currently 3-5 to Monty, Harry having been too nervous at first to try anything serious.

" _Besides, isn't this special enough? The biggest prank on my uncle this year."_ He whipped out the odd letter with a triumphant grin, faltering slightly at the lack of reaction his announcement had garnered.

" _And I'm supposed to know what that isss?"_ Monty asked in a deadpan tone.

" _Spoiler."_ Harry pouted. " _This is what has my uncle so worked up; it's why we randomly took off this morning. The owls outside were flooding us out of house and home with these things. And you know what?"_ He leaned in conspiratorially, " _It's addressed to_ me."

" _Well what are you waiting for, Christmas? Tell me what it says!"_ Finally Monty was reciprocating his excitement. They turned greedy eyes to the lone piece of mail, Harry beginning to rip the top open before he paused.

" _Hey… It's my birthday in about-"_ He peered through the gloom at the battered watch he'd rescued from an overflowing dustbin a couple of years ago "- _fifteen minutes. Since this is a fairly rare occasion, I could wait until twelve and open it then? Like a birthday present?"_

Monty gave him a bored look; his pointed tail twisting left and right in the air. It didn't take a genius to figure out he would get no support from _that_ corner. He considered for a moment. What difference did a few minutes make anyway? It was practically his birthday now, he could pretend – all for curiosities sake.

Without further ado he ripped open the wax seal, his brain vaguely noticing how odd it was for someone to use wax in this day and age. Had he been writ to by some old time loony? A flash of lightning from the heavily overcast sky lit the room as he unfolded the parchment paper – perhaps the mailer had some sort of fetish?

He skipped past his name and started from the next line, reading out loud for Monty's benefit.

" **We are pleased to inform you that you have been accepted into Hogwarts school of Witchcraft and Wizadry…** Wha…?"

Harry's mouth opened and closed several times, but his mind was too busy thinking over the implications of the letter to focus on audible coherency. Firstly he had to consider the letter as a possible hoax – unlikely, when he thought over the circumstances of its arrival. He then fell deep into thought about his two prospect schools, completely bypassing the fact that according to this piece of stained paper; he was a _wizard_.

Whilst others may have found that rather difficult to believe, it was something he could accept fairly easily thanks to the proof he had collected over the years. People didn't just randomly appear on the school roof, or re-grow shaven hair over-night. Although he had so far been unable to consciously re-create these events, he'd never really imagined that a whole society of people with his particular talents existed, to the point where they even had a recognised school! Were there other magical schools? Or was this 'Hogwarts' the only one?

' _It must be a pretty old school to have a name like that. I wonder if anyone remembers where the name originated from…'_ He spent a couple of minutes lost in his own thoughts, sorting through a multitude of new questions so that he would remember them for later, when he could hopefully find people and books holding the answers.

"… _rry. Harry!"_

He jolted, coming back to the present to find Monty's face directly in front of him, a scaly black nose almost pressed to his own small, peach one.

" _Oh, sorry. I had to take a ride on my thought train."_

The amount of noise outside suggested the storm had just taken a turn for the worse, one beat of thunder rolling into the next to make it sound like one continuous growling rumble. Lightning flashed every few seconds, illuminating the room enough for Harry to peruse the remaining pages of his letter. He returned his attention to the first sheet as the clock finally ticked over to midnight.

" _What does it mean 'we await your ow-'"_

He jerked his head up sharply as one loud clap of thunder was followed by a sharp rapping against the hard wooden door.


	4. A Whole New World

**A Whole New World**

A girlish squeal burst out through Harry's lips before he even registered opening his mouth. Glancing covertly at Monty, he grinned sheepishly at the deadpan look the snake shot him and coughed awkwardly.

" _So… ah… that was unexpected."_ His finger rose up to rub at the itch behind his ear.

" _Are you going to get the door?"_

Harry stared incredulously into forest green eyes – much darker than his own – as he processed Monty's question.

" _Get the…. Are you out of your-"_

The knock came again, Harry managing to dim his response down to a violent flinch; narrowing his eyes at the offending party behind his temporary front door.

" _We're a ways out from the coast in the middle of a fairly ferocious storm, perched on top of a death trap of a rock, and_ you _want_ me _to open the door? What if it's a crazy axe wielding psychopath who wants to chop my precious body into bloody pieces?!"_

" _Has the thunder addled your brain – oh, I'm sorry; you don't_ have _one._ "

Harry opened his mouth to retort, but Monty's patience had never been the best. With a scarily accurate imitation of aunt Petunias shrill voice he hissed: " _Harry! Open. The. Door."_

Monty stared up at him challengingly, Harry meeting his glowing orbs head on. Gathering his courage, he squared his shoulders and turned to face the weathered oak, stuffed tightly into its too-small frame. Ridiculous theories aside, they were in that hut because some magical arse decided to letter stalk him. Without considering magic, it was hard to think of a way anyone could have gotten through the punishing waves that he could – even now – hear crashing tumultuously against the granite below them. If this person was from that … Hogwarts, then it was probably a good idea to let them in.

He waited patiently for Monty to climb his leg, winding up under his tattered t-shirt. When they were both ready, he strode confidently toward the door and – without giving it any further thought – flicked up the large brass bolt and pulled.

He was so busy thinking about the person on the other side that he forgot to take the weather into consideration. The gale force winds caught him completely unprepared, flinging the door back into his unfortunate face.

"Mother of-!"

Bodily preventing the door from slamming into the wall, he gingerly poked his smarting nose; pouting as he realised the door had smashed the lens of his glasses. He was now half blind. Grumbling, he curled his neck around the door; squinting out into the gloom. As rain pelted his burning face, he managed to make out a darker shape silhouetted against the murky sky.

A flash of lightning sent him flying as far back into the room as he could get, eyes wide and teeth chattering; the door abandoned to the raging tempest. Following his retreat, the witch (for she could be nothing else) stepped quickly into the hut, the clack of her shoes echoingly slightly against the cold stone walls. The lightning threw her remarkably pointed hat sharply into contrast before a rustle of robes saw the door swinging back into place – with nary a bang to show for its trouble.

Harry had ended up with his back flat against the opposite wall, staring blindly at where the noise of the storm had abruptly cut off. She had not taken any further steps towards him, a fact which helped to calm his racing heart. A warm light emanated from somewhere slightly off to her right, allowing him to focus once more in her general direction.

"I apologise for barging in like this, but it would be rude of me to let you get a cold for opening the door."

He absently placed her accent as Scottish, one more fact to add to her slowly building profile. Harry tried to form a reply, but all he could think of was how much his face was stinging from the wind. He rubbed his hands up and down across his cheeks to try and alleviate some of the chill and sighed heavily. She was being polite, so hopefully he had nothing to fear.

"That's ok, it's impolite to leave someone standing on the porch anyway. I'd offer you a seat but I'm afraid it's still occupied." Though how on earth the fat lump had managed to sleep through that racket was anyone's guess; they'd barely even interrupted his midnight sonata!

Before anything else could be said, the door behind Harry was flung open violently, hitting the adjacent wall with a mighty bang. Jumping in surprise Harry spun around, only to be faced with the mad visage of a bright purple monster that looked vaguely like his uncle…

Something silver was waving about madly in front of him, but without his glasses Harry was struggling to figure out what it could be. A crowbar, perhaps? He seemed to be brandishing it about like some kind of weapon. Unless… had his uncle bought a gun?!

"WHO ARE YOU?!" Uncle Vernon bellowed ferociously, though Harry could detect a barely noticeable tremor in his voice. He was scared? "HOW DID YOU GET IN? YOU ARE BREAKING AND ENTERING!"

A loud crash announced the awakening of his cousin – he had rolled off of the sofa in fright.

"On the contrary Mr Dursley, I was very kindly invited in by your nephew. I assure you that I conducted no illegalities upon entering your…"

"Summer home." Harry supplied helpfully. It was sort of true.

"Indeed." The woman glanced at him appraisingly before returning her stern gaze back to his uncle. "To answer your first question, I am Professor McGonagall. I am here on behalf of Headmaster Dumbledore to investigate a concerning matter that has been brought to our attention."

Watching Vernon's race rapidly darken to a curious shade of puce, Harry asked: "Is this about the letter I recently received?"

The colour disappeared so suddenly Harry worried his uncle would faint. A smaller, similarly white face peered out from behind the open door frame, staring at him in horror. Harry shuffled awkwardly under the scrutiny of the three adults; it felt odd to be the centre of attention after being ignored for so long. He sought out the professors' blurry silhouette once more.

"I apologise if you were waiting for a reply, I'm afraid I only opened the letter seconds before your arrival. Although it's rather beneficial you're here," He added as an afterthought, "I've no owl to reply with."

Noticing the colour rapidly returning to the growling blob behind him Harry sighed. You couldn't please them all.

* * *

The following conversation had taught him a lot about his heritage and had completely destroyed most of his future goals. Who the hell registered their child into a school before they'd even been born anyway?

Although his Aunt had yet to say much on the subject matter, his Uncle was adamant that he go to a ' _normal_ school full of _normal_ people that couldn't influence him with their _freakishness'._ The woman – Professor McGonagall – seemed to believe his future place of study was a forgone conclusion (especially over his 'muggle' institution), and simply endured uncle Vernon's biased rant with the sort of patience only a long serving teacher could have.

Personally, Harry had had enough.

" _Excuse_ me!"

He cut off his uncle mid tirade – clearly the shock of his 'waste of space' nephew interrupting him was enough to jerk the man out of his brainless shouting.

"Thank you." With a moment of quiet to air out his brain, he quickly composed his thoughts into a logical order of progression. Facing the Professor he asked:

"Firstly, is Hogwarts the only magical school available?"

"It is the only one in Briton, yes."

"And anywhere else?"

There was a moment of silence where she seemed to just look at him. Why on earth did he not have a spare pair of glasses?

"Most countries have their own schools – several, in some cases. But most magical children in England are taught at Hogwarts."

"I don't mean any offence but… is there any chance of obtaining a curriculum for each school?"

He'd never considered studying abroad before – monetary issues. However, he clearly wasn't required to pay for _this_ schooling, so maybe-

"I'm afraid Mr Potter that application dates for the upcoming academic year have already closed. As you had already been accepted by the school we only needed the confirmation of your attendance, which is why a home visit was required once your letter was not returned. Should you wish to apply to another school you must wait until the new year, before which time you must have begun your magical education."

Uhuh, right. So he only had one choice in magical school for the moment. He would have to cross check that reference as soon as possible, but as he currently had so little time…

"What if I chose to continue my current education – muggle, did you call it? I have been accepted into a fairly prestigious school and it would be very disappointing to have to turn down the offer.

In fact, giving up on all of his hard work was an incredibly painful prospect; what would his teachers think? On the other hand, he doubted many people got the chance to learn magic.

"Do I have to take entrance tests? How do you know I meet the required criteria?"

"Many students of Hogwarts – much like yourself – are not previously aware of their magical status. Hogwarts allows everyone to learn to control and utilise their magic regardless of their background, therefore we do not hold entrance tests for potential students. As to your first question…" Somehow the aged Witch managed to stand up even straighter, her sharp tone turning steely as she continued,

"I am afraid that, should you choose to reject tutoring, your magic will be sealed and your memories of the event wiped. Accidental magic can be very dangerous and the ministry does not allow it to go unchecked for long."

Harry gaped at her. That was pure blackmail! He wasn't stupid enough to give up such a prize, even for the highly prestigious Whiteacre Academy. What was it with governments and their stupid rules! (Even though he could see the sense in this one).

"HE WILL NOT BE GOING!"

Both Harry and the professor jumped, turning towards his forgotten uncle, still standing in the door way with the gun – once again – brandished at shoulder height.

"Do what you said, seal his- his freakishness away and be off with you! I've had enough of all this nonsense talk!"

Harry felt a foreboding aura behind him just a moment before his Uncles weapon exploded…. Into a bouquet of brightly coloured wild flowers. His breathing turned shallow and his stomach muscles tightened up painfully; now was definitely not the time for hysterical laughter. Definitely not. Nooo way. It wasn't going to-

"Bwahahahaha!" He clutched at his shirt as he doubled over, tears squeezing from his watery green eyes. Logic told him that he was just making things worse, but really, he just couldn't help himself.

Sure enough, Vernon began to practically vibrate with anger as Harry wiped the moisture from his cheeks, flower petals drifting to the ground as his shaking hands dislodged them from their dark green stalks.

Harry hated the situation – he really did – but there was just no way he could pass up learning magic. That didn't mean he had to give up all of his current interests (hopefully), it just meant that they would have to take the back burner until he again had the time. Perhaps he could even study both alongside each other and apply for external testing. Forgetting his relatives entirely he decided that, either way, Hogwarts was his new future.

"I believe I will accept my place at your school; what do I need to do?"

Apparently satisfied with this answer, she folded her hands into the front of her dress and smiled thinly.

"I will notify the headmaster in the morning. For tonight, I have reserved rooms in the leaky cauldron for us to stay in. I shall return Mr Potter to you in the evening; he should be back no later than 6." The last sentence was aimed towards Petunia and Vernon who, in spite of himself, had managed to keep his mouth shut through his building fury. Perhaps he worried what else could flower if she should become upset with him again.

"Uhh… I think our normal house by then, right?" He ignored his shaking uncle in favour of his horse faced aunt. Strangely enough, she looked as though she had already accepted this new development, and was rubbing Vernon's meaty arm in an attempt to calm him back down.

She nodded at him once and urged his Uncle back into their bedroom, beckoning the cowering Dudley over to them as she said, "Just go. Put all of your things away quickly when you get home – I don't want to see any of them for the rest of the summer. Don't forget to write to the academy either."

That said she followed the males into the room and shut the door, effectively shutting out Harry's stunned expression and the severe frown of the witch at his side.

"Well then-" The words came out of his mouth slightly strangled and his had to swallow before speaking again. It's getting early professor, and I could definitely do with a bit of sleep before we hit the shops. Should we go?

* * *

Taking his first step into Diagon Alley, Harry could almost believe he had one foot planted in the medieval history text he'd studied at school. Men, women and children clothed in flowing robes bustled in and out of old English styled shops; bold, painted letters displaying names such as: 'Magical Menagerie', or 'Quality Quidditch Supplies'. He decided he'd best get the other foot in before it got left behind.

The window displays in each shop all seemed to be moving – gleaming ladles stirring massive black cauldrons and stacks of books reshuffling themselves every five seconds, so that there was always a different title on top. Cobbled grey stones stretched out between them in a maze-like network of streets, with gold and black sign posts pointing every which way to 'Ollivanders' and 'Gringotts Bank'.

Harry didn't know which way to look as he let his feet do the boring work; following the Professor up the main path to their first destination. His glasses had been fixed the day before when she had finally commented on his perpetual squint and he praised her magical prowess now, absorbing the sights with almost childish glee.

Walking into a large shadow brought his wayward attention to the front, where he gaped at the sight of a massive marble structure guarded by…

' _Ehhhh?'_

" _Monty, are you seeing this?"_ He whispered quietly to his friend, still hidden under his oversized clothing.

" _What do you think?"_ Was his scathing reply, causing Harry to smile sheepishly as he entered the towering threshold.

"This way Mr. Potter!"

Realising he'd lagged behind slightly he rushed to catch up to the tight lipped woman, offering his apology as he looked up and up… and up. He couldn't even see the banker behind the desk she'd stopped by as, like everything else in the building, it was so tall.

' _Everything other than the employees anyway'_ he thought, regarding the creatures around him critically. He decided they must be some kind of elf or goblin – though they had neither green skin nor pointy hats, their anatomy seemed somewhat similar to the pictures he'd seen in Dudley's discarded books.

Engrossed once again in his thoughts, he only vaguely heard the exchange occurring behind him; noting belatedly that he had…

"Wait. I have _money_?"

"Your parents were fairly wealthy upon their death – both from their work as Aurors and your father's inheritance."

Deceased relatives then. He'd assumed so, but it was still slightly disheartening to finally hear the firm truth. But wealthy… and now it was his…

His practical jokes were usually homemade – hampered due to lack of funding. But now he had magic _and_ money; Hogwarts was going to be a riot.

* * *

 **Author's Notes:**

Although I would prefer to have included Harry's time in Diagon alley in this chapter as well, my academics are staring up again soon and I once again find myself without the time. In spite of this, I hope you enjoy what I _have_ written, and I will do my best to not take so long next time - but no promises!

Thank you for reading, please don't hesitate if you have any comments or queries :D

Editing error has been pointed out and fixed, thank you!


	5. Monty - you know, Monty Python?

**Monty - you know, Monty Python?**

With a bag full of jangling coins and multiple sheaths of parchment clutched in his hands, Harry Potter left the bank a very happy boy. Professor McGonagall, however, was less pleased.

"Mr. Potter, we only have _one_ day in which to acquire all of your equipment. Could you please refrain from delaying us any further for the remainder of this trip?"

"But Professor!" Harry protested. "Surely as a teacher you can understand my scholarly curiosity into the inner workings of England's only Wizarding bank? It's also quite important that I have up to date records of my monetary, property and shared holdings after all. Or perhaps I took too long discussing the causes of the rift between goblins and humans? I admit, the recount of Urg the Unclean was a _tad_ too long even for me…"

He winked up at her cheekily as she pursed her lips in frustration – reminding him entirely too much of his horse faced Aunt. There was, however, a curious smile tugging slightly at the corner of her lips before she wheeled him around and marched them both towards the first shop.

"I will leave you here for a moment to collect your uniform – Madame Malkin will know what you need. I will pick up your potions equipment to speed things up a bit; if you finish before I am back you are to wait _here_." She gave him a stern look as she handed him some of the coins from Gringotts and shooed him towards the door.

"Professor, I didn't know you cared!" He made a show of straightening up his oversized scruffy jeans before strutting into ' _Madame Malkins' Robes for all Occasions_.'

The inside of the shop was warm and welcoming. Light brown hues lined the interior walls and soft candlelight flickered merrily in brass sconces. Harry suspected magic was also involved in the lighting, as there was no way those small flames had so much of an effect.

Ready-made black robes hung on racks all around him waiting to be tailored to individual sizes, though further in he could see larger outfits in every colour imaginable. There were fuchsia pink undercoats and lilac cloaks with caramel piping, sunshine yellow skirts and spring green overalls. He saw magenta, crimson, cobalt, teal, sepia, jade, indigo, navy, lemon and it almost felt like his head was starting to spin out of control until- "Ow!"

"It's best not to stare at the shelves dear, they have a habit of blinding new customers."

Harry rubbed his arm where the elderly woman had swatted it, staring determinedly at the boring black school attire waiting innocently in front of him.

"We normally keep them covered up, but I just had a wonderful young man in here looking for something to help him… 'stand out' as it were." She sighed fondly, Harry almost thought he could see hearts in her eyes.

The woman blinked out of her trance and waved her personal brown stick; causing large, cream curtains to glide down the aisle and drape themselves lovingly over the offensive shelves.

"Now, how may I help you? Hogwarts I assume?"

"No, I'm clean. I was just looking for some school robes."

She blinked at him, he blinked back. She blinked again, so he decided to take matters into his own hands, drifting over to the hang rails to examine all the different shades of black.

"I'd like… this one!" He decided, picking a rather handsome looking outfit from among identical onyx robes and rolling soft cotton between his calloused fingers.

Shaking herself, the woman tutted at him; bustling over and shooing him off to stand on a footstall in the middle of the floor. She encouraged a tape measure out of a small wicker basket (poking at it with her fingers until it finally decided to unravel) and began recording as the tape flexed its way around various parts of his body. After only a few minutes, she flicked it away again and summoned a swathe of black cloth from the rack. The cloak snapped itself smartly around his shoulders and encircled the length of his body – reaching down an inch or two beneath his elevated feet. The woman eyed him critically and deft flicked her wrist, shearing off pieces of the fabric before hemming the bottom with some fancy diagonal wiggles.

He glanced over her head as the shop bell jangled merrily; perking up when he saw a boy his own age creeping uncertainly across the welcome mat which – quite literally – looked happy to see him.

"If you just hop on that stool next to us dear, I won't be long." The Madame threw a kind smile over her shoulder before turning back to her work. It wasn't until she started shrinking the waist that Harry realised Monty was no longer with him. He was sure the snake had been curled around his torso when he'd walked through the door, so where…?

He was distracted from his thoughts when the cloak pulled itself back off of his shoulders; folding neatly on top of a pile of shirts and a pair of trousers waiting at the desk. A pointed hat jumped on top to complete the outfit.

"That's you done dear, is there anything else you would like?" The old lady gave him an expectant smile as she started towards the till. Harry thought for a moment – he had never been given the opportunity to wear proper clothes in the past, which left him slightly unsure as to what he might need. Before he could think of anything however, the boy behind him started panicking.

"Oh no!" He groaned in worry.

The woman looked over in concern, giving Harry his chance to quietly hiss: ' _Monty!'_

"I've lost Trevor! –my toad." He added, seeing the question in her eyes.

Toad…. Harry froze. He wouldn't… But then again, he _was_ a snake.

"Did you walk in with him dear?" The woman asked kindly.

"I- I think so?"

The boy posed it like a question. Harry wondered how many times Trevor had managed to get away before.

"Then we'll find him in a jiffy – don't worry!" Raising her wand, the woman called out: "Accio Trevor the toad!"

Harry _heard_ the disgruntled hiss as a terrified looking toad zoomed out from behind a shelf. He sincerely hoped the amphibian wasn't about to croak from fear.

"There, see? Right as reign. Now, just let me finish with this young man and we'll get you sorted; here you are."

She gently handed over the toad and turned back to the till, just managing to miss the black tail that flicked under Harry's shirt as he hissed furiously at Monty. Coughing slightly to cover up the exchange he said;

"That's all I need thanks – I've still got a lot to buy." Quickly recalling the currency values he'd learned at Gringott's, he handed over the necessary coins and picked up his bundle.

"It was nice meeting you!" He waved jauntily to the chubby boy standing awkwardly on his stool as he skipped out of the shop.

Once outside, he looked down at the beady eyes peering up through the neckline of his baggy shirt.

" _Ok, new rule: No Eating Random Animals. Not until we know what kinds of things are pets and what aren't, capiche? I'll buy you some hoppers or something – as long as you don't leave dead ones lying on my floor_!"

Monty wrinkled his scaled nose at the notion, pouting for all he was worth.

" _I don't like those nasty little creatures."_ He hissed petulantly. _"What about my rats?"_

" _Pfft, gorge yourself. No one would keep a rat as a pet."_

" _Mmmmmm…"_

He looked around for the professor but couldn't see her waiting anywhere in the street. He'd fully intended to be a good kid and wait for her to come back – even going so far as to kick up his foot and recline back against the wall – when he suddenly had the distinct feeling he was being stared at.

Now, this wasn't the first time he had felt this way. All the while he and the professor had been walking through the streets he'd been aware of random people eyeing him with a range of emotions, from amazement to pity, and even a strange, creepy expression that he really didn't want to name. Right at that moment he could in fact feel several pair of eyes on him, though he knew that wasn't what he was feeling. No, there was a very specific – very intense – gaze being directed upon his person.

He flicked his eyes about discreetly, trying to spot the guilty persons without making eye contact with any of his apparent fans. He looked up and down the street with no luck and was prepared to ask for Monty's opinion when-

" _Is that owl staring at_ us?"

" _Owl…?"_

Harry looked up above the heads of the bustling shoppers into an arched window, just to the right of a sign that read: 'Eeylops Owl Emporium' in bold, golden letters. Sitting on a gnarled perch just behind the glass pane was a snowy white owl, beady orange eyes boring unnervingly into his own.

" _Umm… maybe she wants to say hi!"_

Without giving it a second though, Harry kicked off of the wall and headed straight for the emporium door.

" _Woah, NO! No way, uh-uh. Get me away from that shop!"_

Harry barely missed a step, hushing Monty quietly when one little girl ran away from the disembodied hissing in terror. Thankfully, no one else seemed to have noticed.

" _Stop being such a wuss. If you keep quiet they won't even know you're there."_

" _You don't understand! Those filthy creatures_ always _know_."

Harry looked down sceptically at the pleading eyes, peering up at him from the shadows underneath his shirt. _"Nonsense."_ He replied, pushing open the door with a merry jingle.

* * *

Professor McGonagall wasted no time collecting the pewter cauldron and brass scales from their respective shelves. She briskly gathered glass vials, funnels and a stirring rod – pausing briefly to add in a couple of sheaves of filter paper. She had just finished laying all of the items on the counter when a tall, sour faced man emerged from the basement.

He showed the barest hint of surprise at seeing her there, giving her a polite nod as he brushed motes of dust from his dark work robes.

"Severus! I didn't expect to see you down here – restocking so soon?"

"Just that."

Knowing that waiting for volunteered information was an exercise in futility she asked; "Did you not have conferences scheduled for this week? Have they been cancelled?"

The man's sallow face twisted into a sneer. It was clearly a subjected which annoyed him a great deal.

"They have decided to push this summer's events back a few weeks, as if I wasn't busy enough as it is… and _someone_ keeps trying to thin the bottoms of gold cauldrons to save on manufacturing costs. I have just been telling Mr Pontine that I will not accept his offer unless he obtains decent quality stock"

Although the volume of his voice barely rose throughout his explanation, Mr Pontine – who had just emerged from stairway after him – flinched nervously and muttered " _I_ didn't make the blasted things…"

"And yet you were perfectly happy to sell them to me, were you not?"

The man's face turned red in embarrassment as he busied himself behind the counter, wrapping up Minerva's purchases.

"Buying for a student are we?" Severus raised a curious eyebrow at her items.

"Indeed. I left him to buy his uniform; we're running slightly later than I would have hoped. Has there been any trouble with the other cauldrons do you know?" She cast a worried eye at the pewter cauldron currently being wrapped up in brown paper.

"Pewter is a cheap enough material as it is. They wouldn't bother themselves with the hassle."

She asked after the rest of his summer as she collected her baggage. The man was always far too tense during the school year to hold much of a pleasant conversation, but after a couple of weeks break he was usually much more relaxed and open – though his conversational skills still left much to be desired.

She'd lost track of how long they'd been chatting, but was brought back to the present as a strange, squawking sound reached her ears.

"What in merlin's name…" Severus murmured. She saw his eyes narrow curiously at something behind her. She glanced back… and almost fainted at the scene across the street.

* * *

Harry had barely gotten two steps into the shop before all hell broke loose. One hissed curse from Monty set all of the owls off. He was immediately hounded by great feathery bodies and sharp beaks, all pecking at him from every angle in attempts to get at the snake. He crossed his arms over his head to try and protect his eyes, stumbling backwards as he tried to find the door again.

' _Harry, help!'_

He saw long grey talons rip through his shirt and back peddled quickly.

' _Oh no you don't!'_ Unknowingly reacting to Monty's Parseltongue with his own, Harry brought his arms down to bat at the most daring birds.

"OI! What's goin' on over 'ere?"

The shop keeper ran over in a panic, trying to wave the crazy birds away from Harry. "Ge' out lad!"

'Don't need to tell _me_ twice' Harry thought, as he finally felt the uncomfortable protrusion of a doorknob against his backside. He turned quickly – dislodging an owl that had caught itself in his unruly hair – and yanked the door open, dashing out onto the street. A few of the animals managed to follow him, and were still tugging at his clothes and hair.

"What on earth- Mr Potter!"

Harry sighed – part in relief, part dread – as he heard the voice of his future transfiguration professor. He just knew she'd pin this one on him. Not that it wasn't entirely his fault…

He felt some kind of pulse travel through him and was grateful to feel the absence of big flapping birds immediately surrounding his person. All bar one.

He looked up, slightly surprised to see beady orange eyes and a yellow beak meeting his nose half way up. He stared into curiously intelligent pupils as the owl stared back at him, twitching her head this way and that, as if to say, "Well? What are you waiting for?"

"Hi." Harry said.

The owl hooted in reply.

"Mr Potter!"

He lowered his head towards the sharp voice, grimacing as he met the wild, shocked eyes of his guide.

"How… I leave you alone for 5 minutes- what did you do?!"

The shop keeper hurried over, a few owls landing on her outstretched arms as she did so.

"Wha' was tha' lad, eh? You upset me poor birds somethin' awful! I ain't never seen 'em in such a state."

Harry looked from one adult to another, the owl on his head adjusting its weight as he did so. "I, er… um." He met the eyes of the only man in the group. Though he had no idea who he was, the man was staring at him with such contempt Harry found his body automatically tensing defensively; remembering uncle Vernon at his worst.

"It wasn't my fault!" The words burst out of Harry before he could stop them. Although he might not mind telling Professor McGonagall about Monty in pure confidence, he had no idea who the other two people were – and he certainly didn't want to go spilling his secrets to complete strangers.

"All I did was walk in – they're the ones who attacked _me_."

"Well you must'a done somethin' to frighten the poor things li' tha' – they don' scare easy, my birds."

The owl on her right arm hooted haughtily and glared down at the slight bulge under Harry's top.

"Look – I'm sorry, ok? Whatever I did, I apologise. Can I just say I won't come back in and we call it a day?"

The woman sniffed, glaring as she scrutinised him – or more likely, his intentions.

"Well, ye'll 'ave to pay fer tha' one anyhow, she's settled with yeh an' all."

She pointed her chin at the snowy owl nestled comfortably in his hair.

"Uhhh…really? I mean, I wasn't really looking for an owl- but, I mean, yeah." He changed his tune quickly as she scowled at him threateningly. "I love owls, I'll take good care of him - ouch! – her" he amended quickly as the owl dug its claws into his scalp, "honest."

He gave his best innocent smile, sneaking a pleading glance over to his – now slightly amused – professor, who thankfully took the hint and pulled some coins out of the cloth bag she was looking after for him.

"You have my sincere apologies". She told the woman as money quickly changed hands. "And Mr Potter's too, I'm sure." He nodded his head quickly at her meaningful glare.

"Jus' make sure 'ee doesn't step foot in me shop again, not with tha' menace in tow."

The woman turned back into her shop, leaving Harry to gape after her in horror – his mouth opening and closing like a goldfish.

"… that menace, Mr Potter?"

He gulped.

* * *

"Mr Potter, what on earth did you do to instigate such a commotion?"

He could see the professor had lost some of her composure, it was actually quite amusing to see such a stern woman come apart slightly at the seams. He was quite proud of himself for having managed it – even though it technically wasn't his fault… sort of.

"Well, you see-" he stopped as his eyes drifted sideways to the imposing, ebony haired man towering over the both of them and he only just managed not to flinch at the unexpected ice in the man's glare; surely his little escapade hadn't been that much of an inconvenience?

"This is professor Snape," McGonagall introduced him impatiently. "He is our potions master and will be instructing you when you begin school. Now will you kindly tell me what you were doing back there when I had asked you to wait outside Madame Malkins?"

"I did wait! But then this wierdo –" he raised his eyes towards the owl on his head- "was glaring at me, so I went in to see what her problem was and…" He hesitated

"Yes, Mr. Potter?"

Whilst by this point he had no particular inhibitions telling Professor McGonagall about Monty (he hadn't even really meant to hide the snake in the first place, pets were apparently encouraged at this school) he felt no inclination to let the greasy haired Harry hater in on the secret! The man's apparent dislike of him reminded him too much of his uncle Vernon – who would undoubtedly go berserk if he realised he shared his living space with a poisonous reptile.

"Well, I only tried to say hi and she ordered her evil minions to peck me to death!" A comment for which he received an affectionate nip on the ear.

"That bird clearly decided to bond with you Potter, not attempt murder." The sour faced teacher impatiently shot down his story, narrowing his coal black eyes in annoyance. "I suggest you tell the truth now - if I have to spend the next 7 years dealing with your cheek, you will find yourself scrubbing cauldrons in detention for the rest of your miserable life."

Harry stared at him, a flash of anger burning down his neck even as his eyes turned cold. This man was supposed to be a teacher – a professional in his field, but there was no professionalism in his twisted sneer. If he wasn't going to act his age, then neither would Harry.

"I'd thank you to not judge me before you've even met me – as you so clearly have. You hated me from the first glance, and I don't even know you! Tell me, is it my personal history that displeases you so? Or perhaps you had a quarry with a relative of mine?"

A flash of fury lit up dark eyes and the sneer marring the man's face disappeared in a heartbeat.

"A relative then? I can understand if it is due to the dursley's, I rather hate them myself…"

There was a hint of disgust in the way the pale nose wrinkled slightly at the edges, but not the reaction he was looking for. A deceased relative then…

"My parents perhaps? Was my mother a catty woman at school?"

He was starting to find himself honestly curious by this point – perhaps he would have a chance to discover a side of his parents during their childhood.

A flinch, a slight drift of the eyes – a sign of guilt.

"No… my father?"

"Enough!" the man snapped, causing the corner of Harry's mouth to slight up in amusement.

"Mr Potter, I think-"

"I'm sorry professor." He said, cutting off McGonagall's interference. "But regardless of what my father, or any other relatives, might have been like; I am _not_ them. There may be a lot of credence to the theory of personality inheritance but like most things, it is still only theoretical and cannot be counted for a fact.

"I give you this challenge _professor_ : forget what you know about my heritage and learn who _I_ am. If you still find yourself disliking me that is fine, provided it is _me_ you dislike."

" _Not that that's particularly hard, I don't think he'll have any trouble with that."_ Clearly bored of being left out, Monty twisted his way out of Harry's top and draped himself unconcernedly around skinny shoulders (though Harry did not miss the furtive glance he sent up at the snowy owl teasing him from above).

" _You're one to talk! I'm not the one who keeps switching all the socks around so no one has a matching pair!"_ Harry huffed with a scowl, as he crossed his arms over his recently vacated torso.

" _Oh yeah? Well who was it that knotted all the shoe laces around the rack? That oaf actually snapped the things trying to yank his stupid foot wear off."_ Both of them failed to hold back a snort at the memory. They had been in the middle of a week-long prank war on the run up to Christmas.

Potter!" Harry snapped out of his thoughts and looked up at the greasy haired professor, not expecting the shocked and horrified looks on the faces of the adults in front of him.

"Yes _sir?"_

The man didn't even seem to notice the sarcasm in his voice, staring warily at Monty's pearly white fangs and his small pink tongue, which flicked out against Harry's neck every few seconds to taste the air.

"Oh him? This is Monty – my good friend and occasional roommate. He didn't think it was fair that I was going on an adventure without him so he just _had_ to tag along.

"Monty?" Professor McGonagall asked faintly.

Harry nodded at her, glancing wryly down into topaz eyes as he said, "Yeah you know, like Monty Python? He's not a python, but he's a bit of a drama queen and makes for good entertainment."

' _What are you saying pest?! If you're introducing me you should tell them I am an intelligent, awe inspiring, handsome reptile."_

" _You're a pain in the arse – especially in winter."_

" _That's my hibernation period! It isn't my fault you moronic humans are too stupid to stay warm in cold weather!"_

" _Hide from it you mean."_ Harry quipped back, smirking.

"You realise I hope that snakes are not accepted pets within the school? The letter clearly specifies that a student may bring either an owl, a cat or a toad." Harry looked up into the – slightly triumphant looking – face of his future potions teacher, calming himself down by imagining the multitude of pranks he and Monty could play on the man with nearly 11 months of shared living space.

"Likewise, I hope _you_ realise that the letter does not explicitly forbid any other form of animal. I have an owl do I not? There is nothing to say I may not bring a snake also. Monty and I go together, or not at all."

His eyes were steady as he held the other man's glare.

"Well, I think we can arrange-"

" _Thank you_ Severus, I think we've dawdled long enough don't you? I wouldn't want to keep you from your errands any longer – Mr Potter and I are also running slightly behind our original schedule. I hope they don't push the conference back any further, I would hate for you to have to miss it."

 _Severus_ met her stern, pointed look for a brief moment before inclining his head slightly in her direction and turning on his heel; giving Harry and Monty a derisive – yet also somewhat calculating – sneer as he left.

Casual shoppers wondered by them as they simply stood for a moment, watching as his tall dark visage stalked its way back towards the potions store.

"Well," said Harry, after he felt the pause had dragged out too long. "It can't all be sunshine and rainbows I suppose; though I fear to ask what your average potions grades are if he's the sole teacher."

Professor McGonagall pursed her lips at him as though she wanted to say something in his defence, but knew it wouldn't be well received following the previous conversation.

"We still have much to buy Mr Potter. Shall we try to finish this trip with no further delays? Although…"

She trailed off, looking uncertainly down at Monty who was lazily resting his head on Harry's collar bone.

"What, him? He wouldn't hurt… well, anyone I didn't ask him to anyway. I wasn't joking professor – I really wouldn't go anywhere without him regardless of the consequences."

She looked for a moment as though she had swallowed a sour lemon but eventually let the matter drop. He was quite glad of this – from what he had seen today so far the opportunities of magic were just too good to pass up.

It was with a slightly awkward silence that they eventually returned to their shop, though this didn't last long with all the questions Harry had thought up on wizarding culture, politics and legislation.

* * *

 **AU:** Sorry for the wait - it's dissertation year so I (sadly) have more important things to write. This chapter has been sitting around mostly written for a while so I thought I might as well finish it off before things get hectic again! I had planned to completely finish Diagon alley but it seemed to break quite naturally here, so I decided to go along with it. I hope you enjoyed it!


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